1. United States
2. Calif.
3. Letter

Aww, poor baby. Did the polls and votes last night hurt your feelings again? Face it: You’re the punchline of America. A bloated mess in spray tan and diapers, clinging to delusions and cheeseburgers like they’re national security briefings. No one believes you. No one likes you. You lost. The whole damn country is tired of pretending you’re anything but a loud, leaky gasbag with a Wi-Fi signal. You’re not a president — you’re a cautionary tale. You’re not a leader — you’re a liability with a golf cart. You’re not even scary — just sad, flabby noise pollution with a fan club of indicted sycophants. So cry louder. No one cares. History isn’t watching — it already turned the channel. No crowns. No comebacks. No more.